


Cocked Up and Loaded

by americalovesthecockpit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack, Gun Violence, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor, UKUS, USUK - Freeform, WTF, lulz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 09:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6233683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americalovesthecockpit/pseuds/americalovesthecockpit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America feels insecure about his penis size, so he buys a gun to compensate. He wants to show England a sexy time, but accidentally shoots himself right before. But that's not gonna stop him! Crack USUKUS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocked Up and Loaded

Does anyone remember me? :'D I haven't posted anything in way too long. But now I am back, yay.

 

Warning for my typical stuff: it's crack, offensive, gross, not politically correct, and has gross fail sex. I said gross twice for a reason!

 

Written in America's POV!

 

X

 

So England and me were making out.

 

Like intense, it's getting very hot and heavy in here kinda making out. I was straddled over him on that hotel bed, pulling at his tie, my face flushing hot and pink, our tongues sliding against one another, breathing in mostly grunts and groans, feeling him beneath me moan back, with his hands greedily grabbing any piece of me he could reach, groping me over my clothes, run-on sentencing me to an eager erection that had no time for proper punctuation and grammar between our desperate gasps and huffs and just wanted so bad to be set FREEEEEE!

 

England and I had made out before but never gone any further. But I was pretty sure that night in the EconoLodge would be our first time. Why? Because I texted England an eggplant emoji earlier that day, and he texted a winky face back ;)

 

Oh yeah. England was thirsty. For a big tall glass of D. (Not Sunny D.) I was sure of it.

 

So I broke the kiss and pulled back. I prayed to God/ Jesus/ L. Ron Hubbard that when I went to undo the button on his pants that England wouldn't stop me. I donated my 5 cent bag credits at Whole Foods to wheelchair cripple kids organic gardening for compost shit, so He _owes_ me this! And lo, my good deed did not go unrewarded, boys and girls. Not only did England not stop me, but after I unzipped his pants, he raised his ass for me to slide them off. And I did!

 

I saw England's peen bulge through his boxers and it made my own cock twitch. This was it. I was gonna get laid. It'd been a while, not gonna lie. I was so excited! I think England could tell. The :D face I was making probably gave it away, huh?

 

“I've never seen you like this,” said England with an amused smirk. It was the first actual words either of us had said in several minutes. “Catch your breath, now.”

 

“H'huh?” I managed to get out between gasps. I was still panting heavily. If I was texting this I'd put little puffs of air emojis around my face for effect. And not meaning farts like I have in the past because that's funny, I mean come on they had to know we'd do that, right? But this time they'd be legit actual puffs of air.

 

England touched my face. “You're panting like a dog in heat,” he said. “Your face is red.”

 

“ARF ARF!” I barked happily. Then I lowered my head down, and nuzzled my face into England's crotch. I could feel its heat through his boxers and it twitch against me. He let out a small gasp. My eyes looked up to his, my nose and mouth still pressed between his legs, condensation building as I panted my hot breath into the fabric. Then I gave him the most desperate PUPPY DOG EYES look evar.

 

England responded by gripping the waistband of his boxers. I watched eagerly as he pulled them off, but as he slid them down his legs, my :D face abruptly went to :O

 

And not a good :O …. it then went to D: but I quickly recovered so England couldn't see.

 

England's dick is bigger than mine! :angry emoji: Damn, I wish you could picture an actual emoji there instead of just me typing it! That makes me even MOAR angry! :even angrier emoji: (Wait does that exist?)

 

But anyway, how could England have a bigger penis than me? ! All my other parts are bigger than his! I'm taller, I got more muscles, and HELLO! Have you seen a goddamn Google Maps lately? ! My physical country is way bigger! Like try 3,537,441 square miles versus his measly 94,251 square miles! Don't ask me how I knew our exact sizes are without having to look it up. Also don't ask me what that is in kilograms because I have no idea. I will never convert to metric, haha!

 

I suddenly felt horribly embarrassed. England was probably expecting me to be packing down there. See above paragraph for why, I ain't retyping. He will probably look at my penis and be disappointed and make a sad face :(

 

Or worse! He will taunt and reject me! D: He'll say, “Blimey! _That's_ your bloody tallywhacker? Where's the bloody rest of it? Are you even bloody hard? What a rubbish wee thing! That will never satisfy me and my proper size queen tastes. Cheerio, baby penis! Enjoy your hand!”

 

I do a good England impression. You should hear my Italy too. I have a whole bit about him pissing his pants after drinking too much pinot noir and I say PEE-not noir LOLOLOLOL. Are you not laughing? Well, trust me, it kills at World Meetings. Even though France has to be all like “pinot noir is a French wine not Italian” that smug know it all French bastard.

 

But back to the action.

 

England reached down and gave his dick a couple pumps with his hand. I watched, still wide eyed o_o I was so horny and wanted so bad to whip mine out too, but watching him work his cock, seeing the way it moved in his hand, its girth, its _weight_ , the way it literally and audibly _flopped_ back down heavily from gravity when he released it … it made me feel SO insecure. England had an :eggplant: … but I only had a :hot dog: … if that even! Did you know that Burger King has hot dogs now? Which is GREAT news but not even that was enough to cheer me up then ...

 

There's NO WAY I could show him mine! I was way too embarrassed! D:

 

How could I escape this preDICKament (lulz) gracefully? Don't underestimate me, boys and girls.

 

Without missing a beat, as soon as England's hand let go of his dick, I was quick to swoop it back up. It was as thick feeling and heavy as I thought it'd be, and I took a brief pause to both admire and FRIGGIN CURSE THIS LUCKY DAMN SOB WHY NOT ME FML before starting to pump it. Then I lowered my head down, and wrapped my mouth around it.

 

“Ahh …” England moaned like he very much liked that.

 

I took him in deeper, then started a bobbing rhythm, huffing and puffing through my nose.

 

England's hand curled into my hair. “America ...”

 

“Mmm,” I said, his dick deep inside my mouth. One of my hands gently rubbed his balls as I worked his cock. I could feel his hips jerking a little underneath me. He was having to hold back. And it only got harder for him when I started moving and sucking faster.

 

He moaned again, and I felt the hand that had been petting and rustling my hair actually ball and pull it.

 

“Unff!” I yelped, muffled by dick of course.

 

“Ah, s-sorry!” said England quickly. “I didn't mean to do that! It w-was a reflex ...”

 

I yelped out of surprise more than anything, because actually when he did it, I felt a little tingle run down my cock. It actually kinda turned me on.

 

I let his dick flop out my mouth. “'ssokay. Actually I … kinda liked it.”

 

England looked briefly surprised, then saucy. “Oh yeah? You want me to do it again?”

 

“Yeah …” I panted, then sucked him back in my mouth. I went right back to my fast, hard pace of blowjobbing. England pulled at my hair again, and I moaned, so he pulled even harder. Something about that pain was making me so damn horny. My cock got so hard it was torture not to pull it out. This was a kink I did not know I had! Ya know, sometimes you just learn things through trial and error. Like how I learned that I liked voyeurism back in WW2 listening to all the Morse code messages. You think some sexy beep beep messages didn't slip through? Reada please. You guys don't know how lucky you are to have phones to text and sext with these days! It was a lot of work just to spell out “cock” let alone “eggplant” letter by letter in beeps back then, you guys.

 

“America ...” said England in a sexy, strained voice, “s-slow down. Or … or you're … gonna make this end too soon …”

 

Silly England. That was exactly my plan! :thumbs up emoji:

 

Like I was a regular Nostradamus up in there, my prediction came true about a minute later. England suddenly jerked and let out a short, hitched groan. He came in my mouth. I resisted the urge to gag and swallowed the load, even though it tasted pretty gross. I slid him in and out of my mouth just a couple more times to make sure he was completely done, then finally let him flop out. He heaved a big sigh and collapsed back on the pillow, panting.

 

I spat out a little leftover cum into my hand. “Mm, ya liked that, huh?”

 

“Oh, my God …”

 

That was a good sounding OMG ;)

 

“And that was just the beginning of our fun, hehe,” I said, but full of shit …

 

“Idiot,” he said with a smirk, “you've spent me.”

 

“Nah, I'll get you there again.” Oh, what bullshit I was full of! Because this was the end for me! Otherwise the next step would be for me to whip out my own dick, and I couldn't do that now! Now that I know I am seriously lacking in the size department :(

 

But don't worry. I had a plan.

 

“Hmm?” I said, looking to the nightstand. “Is that my phone ringing?”

 

“I don't hear anything.”

 

“I do! And it must be important if they are calling instead of just texting! Sorry, dude, but I gotta take this.” I pretended to answer the fake phone call. “Hello? Oh, hello, Obama! How are you?” Then I whispered to England, “It's Obama.” Then, back to the phone, “Hm? What am I up to?” I glanced back to England, who was still flopped on his back, eyes closed, a slightly derpy look on his face, a little drool running down the corner of his mouth, still soaking in a post orgasm haze. “Oh, you know. Like I told you I was gonna do tonight … Netflix and chill.”

 

I let there be a pause like Obama was talking. And I made my face go very sad! D:

 

“Oh no!” I said to the phone. “How horrible! Of course, I'll be there soon!”

 

England lazily sat up, one eye open and the other closed. “W-what's wrong?”

 

“There's been yet another mass shooting in my country! Now I have to go to a press conference and say things like THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS TO THE FAMILIES or I look like a dick.”

 

“Oh.” England looked sad :( “Yeah … you should go.”

 

“Aww, don't look too sad!” I said, trying to cheer him up and leave this on a good note so that he's wanting more and I don't hella embarrass myself! “Raincheck, m'kay?” :D

 

“All right,” he said with a weak smile.

 

So I quickly gathered my things and left. I didn't expect to spend my evening crying while jerking myself off in my Toyota Corolla in the darkest corner of an EconoLodge parking lot, yet that is exactly what happened.

 

:'D

 

X

 

The next day I found out that there coincidentally WAS a mass shooting even though I had made it up, so I didn't even look like a liar! Which I thought was crazy at first, except that my country has mass shootings all the time, so it really wasn't that surprising when I thought about it :/

 

But I still felt terrible about my penis! I couldn't stop thinking about! Which only made me feel worse because I realized that England wasn't even like _that_ big, just a little bigger than average, so I truly must have a small penis! What if the rest of the world found out? ! Can you imagine the comments I'd get? !

 

France would be like, “Oh ho ho! What a le tiny baguette you have! No wonder your le Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas is so much smaller than mine!”

 

And Russia would be like, “Wow! Is like you got cold shrinkage in snow but it never go back to normal in warm place! You should drink Vodka and give up any shred of thought of sex life ever again.”

 

And Italy would be like, “That's-a what you get for making fun of me! I may piss my pants while drinking wine ONE TIME, but at least-a mine is functional and not like a limp macaroni noodle!”

 

Why did I think up such very specific, stereotypical, and mean insults to myself? I dunno, but it just made me feel even worse :(

 

I needed to do something about this. So I did what any normal cool guy who is insecure about his penis does, and I went out and bought myself a gun.

 

And not just any gun. A semi automatic rifle. A BIG ONE. The biggest I could find. If I can't have a big penis, I'm gonna have a big gun, okay? ! Holding it in my arms, feeling its weight and strength, I felt like such a strong cool badass guy >:D

 

I had to show this thing off! I invited several countries over to bask in the glow of my cool new gun. :face with sunglasses emoji:

 

Only Canada showed up though :/

 

“Don't you think you have enough guns?” Canada asked me when I showed it to him.

 

Oh, did I mention this wasn't my first gun? I have like a whole closet of them. Why? Because FREEDOM AND 2ND AMENDMENT BITCHES that's why.

 

“I will never have enough, bro,” I said. “NEVAR.”

 

“This one looks especially dangerous!” said pussy Canada. “What if you shoot your eye out?”

 

“Who am I, Ralphie from that Christmas movie, JEEZ! I'm not an 8 years old boy anymore. I'm a grown ass MAN.”

 

Canada kept his distance, even though he was only there to see my gun! He looked at it with a very scared face :scared face emoji:

 

“And not just any man!” I continued, “but a big, strong, MANLY MAN! I have the gun to prove it! YOU BELIEVE ME RIGHT? ! URGH SHIT I JUST WANNA SHOOT SOMETHING!”

 

Canada took another step away from me. “Um, whoa, calm down! What's gotten into you? !”

 

I aimed my big cool gun at the window and gripped the trigger. Then I just sighed and let my arms go limp. My gun sagged against me, held on by the strap. “I … I'm feeling … I dunno … inadequate ...”

 

“Eh? Why? Because you're trillions of dollars in debt yet still blow your money on pointless, dangerous things like semi automatic weapons?”

 

“NO,” I said. Big talk to someone speaking for someone with a gun, am I right? Hmmph! “Because … well ...” How do I put this tastefully? “... hmm, well, do you ever get insecure about your … you know … size?” Then I pointed my gun to between his legs. “Like … _that_ kind of size.”

 

It took Canada a minute to understand what I meant, then he blushed a little because he is a 12 years old girl apparently. “Oh! Um. I dunno. I guess not?”

 

“What, really, never? !” I asked suspiciously fast. I wondered if Canada was the same size as me? After all, we're brothers and look almost exactly alike to the point that we're called twins. Twins have the same dicks, right? I should call and ask Italy. Wait--

 

Canada shrugged. “I mean, not to the point that it ever bothered me, no.”

 

Maybe even Canada has a bigger penis than me? !

 

“Hey, let me see,” I said. “Whip it out right quick.”

 

“WHAT? !” exclaimed Canada. “No!”

 

“Aw, come on, it's okay. We're brothers.”

 

“That just makes it even weirder!”

 

Canada is so uptight. But oh well. You can never really tell with it flaccid anyway. The whole grower vs. shower thing.

 

I sighed because I was sad. “Dude, I _almost_ got laid last night. But then I had to bail at the last second … because I was worried ...” I hung my head in shame. (Regular head. I _wish_ my penis was long enough that I could hang _that_ head in shame the same way.) “... that I wasn't big enough.”

 

“Awww,” said Canada, that patronizing asshole. “It's okay, America. Size doesn't really matter.”

 

“WHAT, yes it does! You think people are lining up for the lame wimpy Junior Burger? NO everyone wants a big fat juicy WHOPPER to cram down their gullet!” Or the 'Extra Long Buttery Cheeseburger.' That is literally the name of one of Burger King's burgers. I wish I could make this shit up.

 

“Not necessarily,” said Canada. “I mean, you know what they say. 'It's not the size of the boat, it's the motion of the ocean.'”

 

“Yeah, see, that's not that comforting, because I'm not very confident at that part either.” I really needed more practice on my, ya know, fucking technique. But I don't really get laid that much and while I may practice on pillows they don't give me any feedback on how well I did when I'm done so that's not very helpful, is it?

 

“It's so weird to hear you say that, because you're so confident about almost everything else,” said Canada, who looked legit sad and now not just faking it to be nice.

 

“Yeah, that's why I had to get this FRIGGIN' GUN TO MAKE ME BIG AND POWERFUL YEAH!” I aimed that thing at the ceiling and was about to pull the trigger for a celebratory shoot a la Yosemite Sam but Canada stopped me.

 

“Whoa, you don't need a gun to compensate for a small penis!”

 

“YES I DO!” My finger quivered anxiously over the trigger.

 

“No, you really don't! Listen ...” Cue educational, 90's TV it's-a-teachable moment type music. “America, if you're with a partner who really cares about you, they're not gonna care about the size of your penis or anything else superficial like that. They're just gonna want to be with you! And they'll tell you what feels good and what doesn't and you'll _learn together_. There's more to sex than just putting a penis in a hole. It's about intimacy and fun and creativity and just being with someone who makes you feel happy.” :)

 

I lowered my gun. “Wow, Canada,” I said in surprise. “Your touchy feely gay bullshit has made me feel better. It probably isn't even true, but I don't feel so ashamed anymore.”

 

“I'm glad,” said Canada ^-^

 

“Or maybe it's the gun that's made me feel better, who knows. Either way, I'm gonna try again! YEAH!”

 

It's just like my hero Donald Trump! He has small baby child hands and look what he has accomplished! Did he look at those tiny nubs at the end of his arms and sit there and cry? NO! He said I'm gonna build towers and hotels and racist walls and run for president! He is an hero among heroes! Also he has a small dick too.

 

“At least I got normal sized hands,” I said as I got out my phone. Canada gave me a weird look because even though I was referring to Trump's hands that was just in my head so who knows what he was thinking I was talking about LOL. “I'm sending a text right now! Wish me luck! Hopefully I didn't blow my chances with just a blowjob. That'd be ironic, since I said blow twice and all.”

 

I sent my text to England:

 

“ _Sry about last nite. Wanna try again? :eggplant: :eggplant: :eggplant:”_

 

Wait shit! It's not just about the D! I _literally_ just learned that!

 

So then I also sent some other emojis:

 

“ _:face with tongue out: :peach: :finger pointing: :finger doing OK sign: :water droplets: :snowman:”_

 

The snowman doesn't mean anything. It's just one of my favorite emoji's and I use it a lot. “Hehehe, yeah,” I said, nodding at my sexy text. “That's hot.”

 

“You should really put that gun down now ...” said Canada.

 

England replied pretty quick. He really is thirsty, hehe!

 

“ _All right. I'll be there tonight around 8:00 ;)”_ was England's text.

 

AW SWEET HE USED ANOTHER WINKY FACE! I had to text back.

 

“ _C U then! :fisted hand: :horse:”_

 

“Oh, crap!” I exclaimed IN A PANIC! “I accidentally put a horse instead of the chicken! Now he's gonna think I'm some sick fuck who gets off to horses!”

 

“Why would you put a chicken though?” asked Canada.

 

“Like 'choking the chicken'? Also cock, it means both penis and chicken? DUH CANADA!”

 

Aw jeez! I can't believe I ruined this all over again! England was probably reading that right now like 'WTF A HORSE THAT'S DISGUSTING NO WAY AM I HAVING SEX WITH THIS DEVIANT' and blocking my number and screen shotting it and sending it to other countries and they'll all laugh at me and I'll think of their very specific and probably ethnically racist insults don't you worry MY GOD I MUST CORRECT THIS IMMEDIATELY I COULD NOT FIND THE ASTERISK FAST ENOUGH WHERE THE HELL IS THAT TH--

 

_pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop_

 

Canada gasped and covered his mouth o_o

 

“AH FUCKIN' SHIT--”

 

I shot myself.

 

In my panic to correct my text, I lost control of the gun, and it went off. Some of the bullets hit the wall behind me … and some hit me.

 

It took me a minute to realize what had happened—how did I ever get the right angle anyway? But I did somehow, and I was in a massive amount of pain.

 

I looked down and saw blood everywhere. Blood on my chest, blood on my stomach, blood streaming down my arms. Then I realized I couldn't see anything out of my right eye because there was a bullet in it. Even my iPhone was covered in my blood! I needed a bag of dry rice STAT!

 

“I'll call 9-11!” Canada hurried and called using his own phone. “Yes, hi, I need an ambulance immediately! The address is (redacted.)” He said my address but obviously I redacted it! I don't need you guys knowing where I live. Then all you fangirls will be creeping in my bushes trying to get a peek at me when I shower or jerk it or something. Besides, you don't need to know where I live because I'm America and if you love America I'm always in your heart :) Or some other bullshit.

 

I didn't have the strength to stand anymore. “Ughhh ...” I groaned as I collapsed on the floor.

 

“America!” cried Canada, rushing to my side. “An ambulance is on the way! Hang in there!”

 

“C... Canada ...” I strained. I looked up into his eyes with … my one functional eye. He held me and it was cliché and dramatic.

  
“Yes, America? What is it? !”

 

“Do one thing for me, please ...”

  
“Of course! Anything!”

 

“D... don't let those EMT people … see my tiny dick.”

 

And then I passed out x_x

 

X

 

You see boys and girls, I'm a country, so unless my actual nation ceases to exist, I can't die. If something happens to my physical human-like body that would kill a regular human, my body eventually heals. So while I can't die, I can still lose limbs and other body parts, be maimed, mauled, mutilated, and suffer horribly. Just no death!

 

When I awoke, it was a little while later in the ER. I miss that show.

 

“Ugghhhhh ...” I groaned, the fuzzy world around me starting to focus but still kinda shitty. “Where … where … ugh, where is my gun?”

 

“America!” exclaimed Canada, who was sitting in a chair nearby. Aw he was waiting by my side for me to wake up. Family is always there for you :) “Oh, I'm so glad you're awake! How do you feel?”

  
“Like CRAP! I shot myself, how do you think I … I … Umm. What was … um. What time is it? !”

 

“Uhhh ...” He looked at his phone. “5:35.”

 

“Sweet! So there is still time ...”

 

“They're taking you to surgery around 7:00 to remove the deeper bullets. You want me to get a nurse? Maybe they can up your pain medication.”

 

“F that! Yeah, go get a nurse to un-take these … these …!” I motioned toward the IV line in one of my arms. I couldn't remember the term. “These this thing! Also I need my phone! I only like horses plato … play doh … play doh-ol-ically.”

 

“America, rest, you don't sound too good.” He looked very worried! “You know you got shot in the head, right? You'd be dead if you were a human.”

 

“SAY WHAT!” I exclaimed! “In my head? ! I reached up and felt at my head. There was a bandage around one side of it, wrapped around and covering my eye. Well, what had been an eye at one point, but when I went to touch it I just felt a hole. “Oh my God. I shot my eye out?”

 

Canada closed his eyes solemnly. “You shot your eye out.”

 

“The mall Santa warned me.”

 

“You also shot yourself in the chest and abdomen.”

 

I looked down. Almost my whole torso was in bandages. My eyes widened o_o …...wait no, I was missing one. I guess it was more like o_x

 

“They're gonna remove the bullets and fix what they can during the surgery,” Canada said, “But a lot of this is just gonna be you waiting it out for your body to heal on its own. Your eye will grow back eventually, and whatever damage that bullet did to your brain will heal with time too.”

 

“Pssh, I don't have brain damage.”

 

“You _do_ , and I saw the CAT scan to prove it. That's why you're a little off right now …”

 

I didn't have time for this crap! I had a hot date with some fine British ass, and I wasn't gonna get it in if I couldn't get out of there! Bullets or no bullets, it was happening. I mean, I'm a country. It's not like I was gonna die! I could get the surgery tomorrow. Yep, that was a perfect plan. Go home, take a shower, wash that blood off, see England, tap dat ass, get some sleep, then return to the hospital in the morning for my surgery. I dunno after that. Maybe go to Arby's.

 

“Hellooooooo, nurse!” I yelled a la Animaniacs. “Come here please! Take this out!”

 

“You can't be serious!” said Canada. “You have to stay! You are very seriously injured!”

 

But I didn't even need that nurse because I just ripped out the IV line on my own. Then I hopped out of bed, wrapping the bed sheets around myself because I didn't need that whole hospital to see my ass or my small penis, and was jamming out the door and down the hall. I mean, what are they gonna do about it? I'm like, a country. I'm the United States of friggin' America. I do what I want.

 

“Wait, stop!” Canada called after me.

 

“See ya later, bitchessss—oop!” I ran into the wall. “Stupid wall! I will punch this thing SO HARD!”

 

A nurse yelled at me, “No, don't! It's a load bearing wall!”

 

“Well, I got a load bearing ass waiting for me at home, so good day to you, sir.”

 

I bet you were picturing a female nurse, weren't you? Men can be nurses too. Now don't you feel silly. Expand your mind :)

 

I walked a few more feet but fell on the floor. “Unff ...” I groaned in pain. I had fallen but couldn't get up, like old people in the 90's. “Why is the air ruffles?”

 

I saw Canada lean over me. He'd chased after me, that crafty asshole. “How do you expect to get home in your condition? You're disoriented, weak, and your brain isn't even functionally properly.”

 

“Duh, Uber! You just described more than half their customers.”

 

You know, because they're drunk.

 

X

 

Uber did get me home. Thank God I lost Canada. He would have been such a cockblock if he was there when England came over, am I right?

 

When I got home I cleaned the blood off my phone and yay! It still worked! I was so scared to see what England's reply was though. I had to force myself to look. It said:

 

_'? ?'_

 

Oh? That's it? Just question marks? Well, that's not too bad! He was just confused! And didn't jump to the conclusion that I wanna fuck a horse! What a glorious day. Now all I had to do was clarify my typo and this whole misunderstanding would be over with!

 

_'Oops I meant :chicken: not :horse: lol'_

 

_'Oh, I get it now.'_

 

I took off most of my bandages. I didn't need to be wrapped up like a damn Halloween mummy for hot sexings. If I was into that I'd bang Egypt, ya know? I just left what was really needed, which was the wraps around my head / eye area, one band around my chest, and one band around my stomach. There! I was still doable like that.

 

I was in so much pain. But it didn't matter how many bullets were inside me (apparently around 5) … all the pain in the world couldn't stop me from still being horny. I mean, I was left high and dry last night when I was SO CLOSE. It was such a tease! And now my sweet, sweet salty release was almost here …

 

_'wut turns u on?'_ I texted England. He was on his way but I couldn't wait!

 

_'Depends on my mood. I'm fairly open minded. Did you have any particular plans for tonight? ;)'_

 

I was starting to get a little chub every time I saw that winky face.

 

' _I like toys'_

 

_'I do too. What do you have?'_

 

_'legos'_

 

Shit! What did I type? Legos? ! Why did I do that? !

 

_'What?'_

 

_'I also have a hoverboard. W/wheels. And hot wheels. And hot potato. Cold spaghetti.'_

 

_'? ?'_

 

_':snowman: :snowman: :snowman: :snowman:'_

 

I did not know why I typed any of that! It just flowed out of me!

 

_'If you're joking again, I don't find it funny.'_

 

_':loaf of bread:'_

 

In my defense, the loaf of bread emoji is right next to the eggplant.

 

A short time later, England arrived at my humble abode. When he knocked on the door, I yelled for him to just come in.

 

“Come to the bedroom!” I yelled. That's where I was. I'd been laying on the bed ever since I changed my bandages. I really didn't want to tell England what I'd done to myself, but there really wasn't any way around it. He was gonna see my bandages. My plan was just to downplay it as much as possible.

 

“Heh heh,” I heard England say from the hall. “Waiting for me in the bedroom? Cheeky. You really are impatient, you know that? I was sort of hoping for at least a drink or something before we got down to … holy shit.”

 

The 'holy shit' was when he rounded the doorway and saw me.

 

“Yo, Englandddd … sup. Hey, can you get me some water?”

 

“Wha … what the hell happened to you? !”

 

Suddenly he was looking really closely at all my wounds and bandages like it was a big deal. He looked horrified :O

 

“Oh, a little mishap with my gun, you know, it happens. Now about that water ...”

 

For the next ten minutes England asked a million questions. The who what when how why of everything. Mostly the why … like why I wasn't in the hospital, why was I derping around with a loaded machine gun in the first place, why is y sometimes a vowel but sometimes not. I mean what kinda bullshit is that? No other letter can be both. I think that last question was just in my head though.

 

But I downplayed everything as much as possible. I needed to get laid, y'all.

 

“I'm fine, really!” I insisted.

 

“You don't look fine!” England sounded very worried. “It hit you in the head? ! No wonder your texts made no sense! You cocked up your _brain!_ ”

 

“You know what would make me feel better?” I smirked at him and gave him my sexiest bedroom eyes. Um. Well just the one, I guess … crap.

 

“I can't believe you're even thinking of having sex like this ...”

 

“Please, England! I'm begging you!” I begged him. “I'm soooo horny oh my God ...”

 

“You should be in hospital!”

 

“ _You_ should be in my pants!” I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer to me. He almost lost his balance but then he caught it. “Please, please, I want you so bad …. you don't know what I've gone through … to get this close … please just let's do this.” I looked deep into his eyes. “Sexting is only but so gratifying. I need the _real thing …_ sexing _._ ”

 

England stared hardcore back into my eyes. It was very serious and dramatic. I could hear dramatic music. But it was only in my head.

 

“I … I don't know ...” said England.

 

I had to prove to England I was strong enough for this! So I pulled him by the shirt back onto the bed with me. So then I was on my back, and he was straddled over me. Then I pulled his head down for a kiss.

 

It was a long, deep kiss that England resisted for like a second, but then gave up and kissed me back. When he finally pulled away I said, “See! I'm strong enough to man-handle you. So I can handle some sex, okey?”

 

“I don't want to hurt you …”

 

“Then stop torturing me and let me finally … you know … uh ...” I knew what I meant to say, but my brain just kinda blanked. I saw a brief flash of a snowman, then nothing.

 

England hesitated for a long time. But for a different reason. He was thinking very hard about this situation. Finally he said, “All right. But let me do all the work. You just lie back and enjoy this. And let me know if you need to stop ...”

 

:'D

 

England was about to ride my dick and all was right with the world.

 

We re-positioned ourselves to get a little more comfy. I laid back with my head on my pillow proper, and England crawled back on top of me. He started kissing me again. England really likes making out. And I definitely don't mind it, especially since he's pretty good at it. It does a decent job at getting me horny. Not that I needed much help that night …

 

England went lower and started to work on my neck. Well what's a hicky when I've already got bullet wounds? The people at the hospital will see tomorrow and be so jelly, hehe.

 

“Mmm,” I moaned. I was already getting hard. “England … mm, yeah—AH SHIT--”

 

England immediately stopped. “What's wrong? !”

 

He'd gone lower and started to lick my chest, was what was wrong. He didn't touch the bandage but came close enough. And it hurt like a bitch.

 

“N-nothing,” I said quickly. I didn't want him to stop. “Just go easy on my chest. It's a little tender. In fact, maybe skip it all together?”

 

England hesitated and I thought he was gonna call the whole thing off. But then he just said, “okay,” and started kissing my mouth again. Kinda going backwards, but whatever. At least that didn't hurt.

 

My heart was pounding so hard. And while I'd like to say it was just from me being so excited and horny that all the blood was pumping so hard, it felt like something else was going on too. It made me feel lightheaded and dizzy. My vision was hazy, and it wasn't even that great to begin with. Did you know with only one eye you get crappy depth perception? I learned that real quick.

 

As England kept macking me, I felt his hand much lower. He cupped my crotch over my clothes. And started slowly, sensually rubbing it.

 

I couldn't help but groan because it just felt so good to finally be touched.

 

As he groped me and I got more excited, I felt my heart pound even harder. It was like it was working really really hard but still not pumping enough. If I opened my only eye, the room spun. So I kept it shut and just enjoyed the ride. Wheeeee!

 

Until I felt a horrible pain again.

 

This time it was my abdomen. England's arm had accidentally touched it as he was reaching down to cup my cock. Again when he heard me yelp, he immediately stopped.

 

“Sorry! Oh, God, that must have hurt ...” He looked down and saw what he'd touched: the bandage on my abdomen, which was starting to slide down a little. It was sliding because it was so drenched in blood that it was weighed down. “Bollocks … that looks _horrific_ ...”

 

“Nah, it's just a flesh wound,” I said. “You can go back to feeling me up now.”

 

“It _smells_ too. What is this?” He wrinkled his nose as he pushed the bandage a little farther down. The 'this' he was referring to was the yellow pus that was revealed when the bandage was removed. “Ugh ...” he grimaced.

 

I rutted up my hips. My boner did not want to be ignored! “England!”

 

“It's gotten infected already! That's why it smells and has gotten pussy!”

 

He said pus … y … like “in a state of having pus” … not PUSSY like the cat/vagina. But I dunno how to spell that.

 

“So I'll get antibiotics when we're done. It can wait a little longer ...”

 

“And you're bleeding so much! I think we should stop.”

 

“NO! Please!” Now I guess I was the thirsty one. Both literally and figuratively. England never did get me that water I asked for. “You can't get me this hot and bothered and leave me and my blue balls to suffer! That's cruel! And I'm sure I'm not the only one who wants to finish ...” I proved my point by grabbing England's own dick, guided more by feel than my shitty vision, and sure enough, it was very hard. “Yeah, you want this too,” I said, rubbing him sexily. “Dicks don't lie, England.”

 

His face looked like he wanted to protest, but I guess his own penis got the best of him, as penises often do, because he eventually just gave up and let me keep fondling him for a while. Until he stopped me by pulling down and off his pants. Here we go, boys and girls!

 

“You want me to suck you off again?” I offered.

 

“Mm, no,” he said, now sliding off his boxers. “I don't want you to overdo it.”

 

I tried to focus my one remaining eye. It was moving around a bit because of my spinning vision, but I did make out a blurry thick hard cock as it flopped out of his underwear. I saw him pump it a couple times with his hand. Then I leaned over and vomited.

 

“BLARRGH!” I puked.

 

“Shit, are you okay? !” England dropped that dick of his in a panic.

 

“Y-yeah.” I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Actually, I feel better now that that's out.” I didn't really.

 

“Are you sure you can keep going?”

 

“VERY yes!”

 

Just ignore the pile of vomit on the bed now. All we gotta do is scoot a little farther away from it and it's all good.

 

“I feel guilty that I want to keep going too,” he said. “But something about seeing you so vulnerable is turning me on. I feel so badly for you, and of course I would never want you to actually suffer yet … seeing you like this is really doing it for me. I feel like I can't stop myself.”

 

Kinky. Jeez, if I'd have known this was England's thing I would've shot myself years ago! I mean not really because this is the worst pain ever but whatever it sounded good when I first started saying it.

 

I figured I better keep things moving along, before he stopped thinking with his dick and wised up.

 

“I have … um … the thing … on my nightstand. Um.” I couldn't think of the word!

 

He looked over and saw the bottle of lube and knew that must be what I meant. He grabbed it, but let it fall on the bed with us. He crawled between my legs, and I spread them to make room.

 

He licked and sucked at my inner thighs, which I had never had done to me before so it made my legs twitch involuntarily. Like in a good way. He did that for a couple minutes, then stopped with his face right above my crotch. I felt his hot breath on my clothed erection. “America …” That sexy look really got my heart pounding! That and my low blood pressure from blood loss. And dehydration. He licked his lips. “Show me your aubergine.”

 

“... my what?”

 

“Your aubergine—oh, what is it you all call it here? Eggplant?”

 

Then it all came back to me. That my clothes were still hiding my secret. I did not have an eggplant, but a tiny seedling! Canada's touchy feely speech suddenly seemed stupid to me and I didn't have my gun with me. I felt so insecure and embarrassed again. All the shame came flooding back to me now that I was back in the same situation. It's different now that I'm here, in the bedroom, with England, who is literally waiting and expecting for my big thick eggplant of a cock but he will be so disappointed when he sees what I really (don't) have. What the hell was I gonna do?

 

So I started sobbing! I couldn't help it. I couldn't run like last time. I just didn't have the strength or coordination or vision. So I just broke down.

 

“What's wrong?” I could hear the panic in his voice. “Why are you crying?”

 

“BECAUSE I HAVE A SMALL DICK AND YOU'RE NOT GOTTA WANNA HAVE SEX WITH ME AND WILL LEAVE ME AND I WILL BE FOREVER ALONE!” I sobbed!

 

Sorry for all caps, but the gravity and volume of my words warranted it.

 

I wish I could have seen the look on England's face well enough to describe it to you, my loyal readers. But I didn't have much vision left. It's really amazing I'm even able to describe anything from this scene to you all, so you better BE GRATEFUL! Grateful like it's Thanksgiving up in here!

 

“Is … is that what you're worried about?” he finally said. “I don't care about that.”

 

“You … you don't?” :'D

 

Canada was right after all! All England wanted was to be with me! Duh! How could I have been so blind? I mean I only shot one of my eyes out, not both.

 

“Of course not,” said England. “What difference does the bottom's dick size matter?”

 

:I

 

Oh.

 

I did not see that coming. (Did you? If so, sorry but there are no prizes for getting it right.)

 

“From the look on your face ...” started England, “I'm going to assume you thought _you_ were going to be topping?”

 

“Yeah ...”

 

Well this was awkward!

 

“Oh. Well, we're new at this. There will be misunderstandings. I guess we never did discuss this beforehand, after all.” There was a hesitation. It was real awkward so imagine it thusly. “Well, how about I just suck you off and we'll call it a night for now? I owe you one anyway, after last night ...” Then I felt his hot breath over my dick again, even through the fabric.

 

“Uh. I didn't say _no_ ,” I said in a small voice. “I just said I wasn't expecting it.”

 

So all this time when England saw that I was texting him eggplants, he thought I was asking for _his_ eggplant! Isn't that funny? You know they say most texts are misunderstood. That's because of only 7% of communication is words, according to some scientist at least. The other 93% is crap like tone, body language, facial expressions, etc. So with texts you're only getting 7% of what you would get in IRL conversations. *THE MOAR YOU KNOW*

 

No wonder there was a miscommunication! When I texted that peach that looks suspiciously like an ass, he thought I meant my _ass_ , not his! By the way, why did the people at Apple make that peach look so much like a butt anyway? I mean, have you seen that thing? Real peaches do not look like that, LOL. They were feeling saucy the day they made that thing. Oh, Tim Cook, you silly rascal! Making sexy peaches one day and denying the FBI access to a terrorist's phone the next. What crazy misadventures you get into!

 

Anyway, back to my bedroom adventures! ;)

 

England looked at me curiously. “... does that mean you're saying yes?”

 

It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but it would save me the embarrassment of disappointing him with my Vienna sausage of shame while still getting laid, so it seemed like a good compromise. (Apologies to Austria for the Vienna sausage penis comparison.)

 

“Mmyep,” I said. “As long as you don't make fun of my small penis.” :(

 

“All right,” said England.

 

“Or my third ball,” I said :(

 

“Oh-- UH ...” He looked confused. “Okay then ...”

 

“HAHAHA! That was a joke. You totally believed me for a second! Haha!” I LOL'd. “I have the normal amount of balls.”

 

Obviously whatever part of my brain was injured clearly was not the part that makes jokes! My humor is still hilarious as always! I wonder what part was damaged? Now I am picturing my emotions like in that movie “Inside Out” and they are having to like clear debris and rebuild stuff like construction workers in hard hats. Fear, you need to get your ass back to work with the hammer instead of making me so worried about my small penis! You houndstooth sweater wearing asshole.

 

“I should hope so.”

 

I felt a hand at the top of my pants. Going for my button, undoing it, and then unzipping my zipper. This was it. We were finally gonna do this. I felt so nervous as I raised myself up a little so that he could slide my pants off. I heard them hit the floor. Now it was just my pair of boxers between us. My good eye was squeezed shut so I couldn't see anything. My heart pounded like I'd just drank a Trenta at Starbucks, which is even more than a Venti you guys! It was working overtime, though not getting paid time and a half. I felt lightheaded and dizzy and nauseous like after a trip to Chipotle, but too horny to care.

 

I was trembling when England slid my boxers off.

 

“Are you cold?” he asked.

 

“A little, but keep going, it's okay,” I said. “The cold never bothered me anyway.” You better have read that sentence in the proper musical notes! If not go back and do it properly. I'll be here all day, boys and girls.

 

There was a _pop_ sound but it was not popcorn but England popping open the lube bottle. They need to make an emoji for a lube bottle, by the way. That would really help my sexts. The closest is like that honey pot or whatever the hell that thing is supposed to be. Just thought I'd throw that out there. These things keep me up at night.

 

There was a _schlick schlick schlick_ sound next, and I assumed it was England lubing up his nightshade vegetable.

 

I spread my legs for him. “I'm ready,” I said. “Give me your potato.”

 

“Potato?” England sounded confused.

 

Shit, wrong food! “I meant eggplant.” In my defense, they are both nightshade vegetables, okay? Learn yoself some botany and cut my damaged brain some slack. “Mmm, yeah, gimme your big thick eggplant.”

 

“That's not exactly arousing dirty talk … but I'll forgive you, seeing as how you shot part of your brain out.”

 

It's okey. Obviously I don't need all my brain. My dick was helping me think, hehe! But that is most guys most days anyway, am I right? Yeah.

 

“Are you ready?” asked England.

 

“Okay! I mean yes!”

 

I barely got my awkward affirmative answer out before I felt the tip of his cock press against my peach hole. Then it was completely inside me, swallowed up like how Italy swallows up eggplant parmigiana. He loves that shit. I had a few seconds to adjust, then England started a slow rocking rhythm.

 

“You all right?” he asked with a breathy voice.

 

“Yeah.” But the me was not all right. I just didn't want to tell him that.

 

It wasn't even his dick that was the problem, big and thick and penisy as it was. Any pain that my ass would have had from accommodating that thing was drowned out by the horrifying excruciating pain that was in my abdomen. It was already in a lot of pain, but when my body started moving with England's it got much worse. It felt like something was tearing me apart! It felt hot and wet too, so I reached down to feel that my bandage had slipped off. It was too weighed down by the blood. What was so hot and wet feeling was all the blood all over me :(

 

I tried to wipe it away with my hand. I didn't want England to see it, though I'm sure he had to of. To of? Is that right grammar? To have? Damn it England, why'd you make your language so hard, you trolling bastard. No wonder you were forever alone as a kid. No one was gonna bother learning your hard ass language. It was easier just to throw rocks at you and call you a nerd or whatever they did.

 

The smell got a lot worse all of a sudden. It was a putrid, rotting flesh kind of smell. Kinda reminded me of … well, which ones of you boys and girls has a dog? Y'all ever been around when their anal glands get expressed? It was that kind of disgusting smell, but even worse. Apparently when I wiped some blood away, I just cleared room for more pus to seep out of the wound. And that infected, rotting pus was RANK.

 

There's no way England didn't smell that. But he kept on going anyway. In fact, he was going faster now. The bed creaked as he pounded me. He grunted and groaned … good grunts and groans that sounded like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. I bit my lip and balled my hands into the sheets below me. So, yeah. I got blood and pus on the sheets doing that. Damn it, I have white sheets, that shit ain't gonna come out in the wash …

 

So I just gave up and decided to just enjoy the ride. Really I didn't have much choice. I felt really lightheaded, like everything was swimming like Nemo. My breathing was really hard. Last time when England and I almost had sex, he said I was panting like a dog in heat. Now I was panting like a dog some jerk owner locked in a hot car on a summer's day. It was a little different ...

 

I think things might have gone black too, but I was already closing my only working eye, so I couldn't tell either way. I registered _some_ things. I felt pain, that's for sure. Pain in my head, pain in my abdomen, pain in my chest, pain almost everywhere really. I felt pleasure too. I felt it when England's cock struck my prostate and it sent a wave up it up my spine over and over again. And I felt heat, and wetness, and stickiness, from God knows what kinds of bodily fluids.

 

But sometimes I didn't feel much of anything. Like my brain would just temporarily cut out. Like a YouTube video buffering because your internet (Comcast) sucks. And sometimes I'd just see that snowman emoji again. However would I look at a snowman again? Like that old geezer at the beginning of Rudolph who sings that boring ass song? Or Frosty, who chased children and then smoked a pipe in front of them? Or Olaf from Frozen, who enjoys COLD hugs, not warm, THAT'S JUST SCIENCE OKAY?

 

“Does … does it feel good?” I heard England ask in between breaths.

 

“Wha … what?” I didn't quite catch it.

 

“I s-said … does it feel good?”

 

“Y-yeah, it's good, Charlotte.” :I “I mean England.” LOL oops. Good Charlotte was a band. Y'all remember them? (Shake it 3 times, you're playing with yourself again!) Damn my shitty brain!

 

“I'd call you an idiot … but … well ...” He didn't finish that sentence. He just kept thrusting into me, his big cock stretching and filling me over and over, his balls slapping against my ass, driving my own dick crazy as my prostate was hit repeatedly--

 

“BLAAAERRGGH! !” I suddenly puked again. Luckily I turned my head to the side in time, so most of it didn't get on us. Most.

 

England's thrusting came to an abrupt stop. “Shit! Are you all right? !”

 

“Y-yeah.” I spit a little more out. It tasted awful! It smelled bad too. When I hazily opened my eye, I saw that it was like a yellow foam mixed with little tiny pieces of the Burger King hot dogs I had earlier in the day. I got them on the way home from the hospital. Yeah, Uber will go through drive thrus if you ask! I asked. “It's just a flesh wound.”

 

“What? You just vomited everywhere! Good God, it's _so much_ ...”

 

“Um. I meant, it's just a vomit … wound. Thing. Can we get back to the sex now?”

 

England pulled his dick out of me. Aww :(

 

“No!” he shouted. “I knew this was a bad idea! I never should have done this. What was I thinking?”

 

With yo dick, just like me.

 

“We need to get you to a doctor!”

 

“Noooooo!” I whined. I wanted him back in me! I was so frustrated! I mean, I already came so close last night, then had to call it off. Then I friggin' delayed much needed medical care, then got this far, like as far as actual penetration, but no finish? ! Oh helllll no. I didn't go through all that just to call it quits so close!

 

I tried so hard, and got so far. But in the end, it didn't even matter. (Linkin Park gets it.)

 

“Yes!” England sounded adamant! “Put on your clothes. I'm driving you right now.”

 

“NO!” I pouted. “I only need a couple more minutes! I was _so close .._.”

 

“Do you know how much blood you've lost? ! I'm surprised you're still conscious. Now come on, I'll help you dress.”

 

I felt his hand try to grab for me, but surprise! I grabbed him back instead. And pulled him back down on me! But with shitty vision, I didn't do the best of jobs. When I pulled him on top of me, his dick coincidentally lined up with the open wound in my abdomen, and just my luck it slid right in.

 

:O

 

There was a very, very uncomfortable silence. We both just laid there in pure shock like OH SHIT WHAT HAVE WE DONE? I stared into his eyes and he stared into my … one eye.

 

I couldn't believe it. His hard cock was firmly nestled inside my bullet hole wound, pushed up against my inner organs, bathed in blood and pus and mucous. Tears streamed down my face. T_T

 

…. but not completely in a bad way.

 

“Oh my God, England,” said me, drooling as well. “Why the hell is this making me so horny? !”

 

England trembled. He looked horrified. “I-I don't know.”

 

“Move your dick!” I begged. “Like in and out like normal thrusting! Please!”

 

“I-I don't want to ...” England looked like he wanted to cry too. “I don't want to admit this feels good!”

 

I couldn't believe my ears! He said it felt good? ! Wowee! Well if you think about it, it made sense. It was a warm, tight, wet hole. Those tend to feel good when you put your dick in them regardless of what they are. I learned that from experimenting with a burrito from Chipotle by carving out a hole and going to town. (That was before the e coli. Don't want a sick dick.)

 

I guess a better question was why did _I_ like it? Was it the brain damage? Did I discover some magical new hole? Was I just some sick fuck?

 

“What are you, a masochist?” asked England.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You get off on pain?”

 

His tone was hard to read. It was a little disgusted, a little confused, and a little aroused maybe?

 

“I dunno,” I said.

 

“I think you do.” England started thrusting. Yes, you read that right. You can read. England was thrusting into my bullet hole wound! “You have been begging me for sex all night despite being in a ridiculous amount of pain. I think it turns you on.”

 

“A-ah!” I moaned, arching my back. I'd never felt anything like this! It was such a sharp, stabbing, burning pain. Yet it drove my dick crazy! It twitched and happily oozed precum.

 

“I should have known,” he said as he continued to pound me in the bullet hole. “That's why you asked me to pull your hair last night. You get off on pain, huh?”

 

Well, I didn't know it, but I guess England was right! I learned something about myself that night. Learning is power! Well, knowledge is power. Same diff.

 

“Seeing you in pain … vulnerable … and begging me … it turns me on too,” said England, still fucking away. “... I guess I'm a little bit of a sadist then, eh?”

 

Pssh, a little?

 

“I feel guilty about it ...” continued England, huffing with his thrusts, “but I suppose … i-if you like it, then it's all right.”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Maybe later I'll spank you ...”

 

“Okay!”

 

“And pinch those perky arse cheeks of yours til they bleed.”

 

“Yay!”

 

“And put my cigarette out on your skin.”

 

“Wheeee!”

 

“And force your throat down so deep on my cock you choke.”

 

“...”

 

“America?”

 

“...”

 

“I'm sorry, was that one a bit too far? We can skip that one. How about I paddle you, hmm?”

 

“...”

 

“America? !”

 

That's all I remember before I truly did black out.

 

:zzz: :moon: :night sky: :bed: :snowman:

 

X

 

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. I slowly opened my eye, and saw the familiar white room with heart rate monitor and IV pole and other typical hospital stuff. You've all seen it in TV and movies and maybe IRL, use your imagination, okay?

 

England was there, sitting at my bedside. Canada was also there for some reason.

 

“America!” England exclaimed when he saw me open my eye.

 

“England!” I exclaimed dramatically back! “Wha … what happened?”

 

He was standing beside me then, holding my hand. “You lost too much blood and passed out. I rushed you here. They had to give you so many bags of blood … and surgery to remove the bullets still lodged inside … and repair the damage …”

 

“Heh, that damage you did with your dic--”

  
“SHHH!” England hushed. Then he whispered to me very quietly, “ _No one needs to know what we did.”_

 

“Hey, don't shush me! And we never finished what we started! I'm 0 for 2 here, what the hell!”

 

“Just relax.” England squeezed my hand with one of his hands and petted my head with the other. “You need to rest and heal. We'll finish what we started eventually, but you need to get well again first.”

 

“What! But that'll be weeks! Months, even!”

 

England sighed. “I'm not thrilled about it either, but it's for the best.”

 

“Aw maaaAAAAAnnnn ...”

 

“In fact, I'm flying back to my own country tomorrow until you're better to remove all temptation.”

 

“But you said you liked me like that! That you liked seeing me in pain and vulnerable and you were a sadist and MMMF--”

 

England clamped a hand down on my mouth. “I said shut the hell up.”

 

You know how long it'd be before injuries of such a serious nature healed? ! Weeks! Months, even! Oh yeah, I just said that. But yeah, isn't that a long time? ! I can't go that long without sex! Not when I've been teased this much but coming so close but never actually _coming_ if ya know what I mean …

 

_Da-ding!_

 

“Hmm?” England looked to his phone. He'd just received a text. It was from me, hehe! It said:

 

_:open :O face: :tamale: :face with licking tongue: :water drop:_

 

England looked back up at me confused. “A hot pepper? Is this more kinky shit? You know that will burn like fire if you put it up your--”

 

“No ...” :( “I meant the tamale is like my penis … I picked that one to be it because it's small. An eggplant is a lie … you know … because of my tiny penis ...” Ouch my pride :'D

 

“Oh,” said England. “Right. I considered telling you this earlier … but I was kind of getting off on your humiliation so I kept it to myself … but your penis isn't really that small.”

 

“W-what?” :O

 

“Yeah, I mean, it isn't huge. I'm bigger. But I wouldn't really call it small either. I suppose it's about average?”

 

“R-really? No foolin'?” :'D

 

“I think pornography has created unrealistic expectations for penis size … that don't really match reality ...”

  
“Wh-who said I watch porn?” I asked very quickly, my one eye darting around. I guess I can return my gun! Wow!

 

“Hmm.”

 

Time to change the subject! “Well in that case, I'll use the eggplant emoji for me too, hehe!”

 

“I wouldn't give yourself _that_ much credit. Maybe use the banana?”

 

Ouch dude :(

 

“Jeez, you're mean!” I pouted. Even though I secretly kinda liked it, hehe. “But I'll agree, only so it's more clear whose dick we're talking about in texts. Because you _know_ we're gonna keep sexting right? That won't affect my wounds healing!”

 

A few weeks or months of nothing but dirty texts and misused emojis to get my rocks off. I guess it's better than nothing right? :'D

 

“Fuck that,” said England. “These emojis are bollocks. You know these phones can make videos, right? I'll just record myself nude and wanking whilst calling your name and using toys and enacting whatever fantasy or kink you ask of me ...”

 

“Damn dude!” :D “That sounds hot as hell! Why didn't I think of that? !”

 

“Rest up,” said England with a smirk. “So we can hurry and get to the real fun though.”

 

“I sure will!” >:D

 

“I'll just … see myself out ...” said Canada, slowly backing up toward the door.

 

Oh, oops! We forgot all about him, LOL! Who cares.

 

The end!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
